Out of the Room and Into the Fire
by greenfly
Summary: SEQUEL to 'The Room of Necessity'. The first hurdle has been jumped, but will love ensue? A notsosimple romance. DMHG. Featuring Christmas, Crookshanks, passwords and musing... so far.
1. Conversations

**Out of The Room and Into the Fire**

**Disclaimer:**All I own is me underpants. And a toothbrush. And my fingers. And my left foot... This list could go on for a while, but among it is NOT Rowling or any of her weird and wonderful creations (namely Harry Potter). I don't own any strawberry jam either, but I don't think that matters too much, seeing as I do have some raspberry!

For future reference, neither do I own Toto.

**Summary:**SEQUEL to 'The Room of Necessity'. The first hurdle has been hurdled. Will love ensue? A simple yet oh-so-complicated romance.

**Please Note:** This fic is a sequel to 'The Room of Necessity'. Although I recap what has happened in the last fic, there is a lot that you won't understand unless you have read TRoN.

**Another Note:** upload system will not allow you to put question marks and exclamation marks together; they just show up as exclamation marks. So that's why some question marks are missing. Don't know why I'm telling you this, but I suppose if you're a stickler for grammar…

"It is wisdom to recognize necessity… though as folly it may appear to those who cling to false hope. Well, let folly be our cloak, a veil before the eyes…"_-Gandalf in 'The Fellowship of the Ring' by J. R. R. Tolkein._

**This is a DMHG fic.**

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**Chapter One : Conversations**

Madame Pomfrey had healed Draco in a jiffy and now he was ambling along back to his common room, mulling things over in his mind.

Stupid Potter. Bloody idiot. What did he go and do that for? There Draco was, innocently screaming his head off and dancing around the Room like a lunatic, and there comes Potter and his pet bulldozer the Measle Machine from Weasleys-R-us. Bah. Gryffindors. Idiots – the lot of them.

Except for Hermione.

"Half-breeds." Draco muttered, and the wall his feet had led him to opened to reveal the Slytherin common room, and a giant rhinoceros bounding towards him.

Draco didn't have time to run before he was hit so forcefully he staggered, and started choking on the overpowering scent of too much perfume failing to disguise body odour.

"Hello Pansy."

Pansy pulled back from hugging Draco and snarled before she whipped back her hand and slapped him hard across the face. Draco staggered again.

"THAT's for leaving me Draco, and hiding like a rat for five days."

Draco retrieved his balance and was brushing off his robes when Pansy's words registered.

"Five days! That means it's-"

"Christmas tomorrow!" Squealed Pansy as she ran to the holly-decked Christmas tree and dived behind it. "And I got you something I just KNOW you'll love!"

She emerged slightly rumpled, clutching a large package against her chest. It was neatly wrapped in green silk, but it had about 700 neon orange bows attached to it. Cautiously, Draco took it from her.

"Open it now!" She demanded, and under her piercing gaze Draco did as he was told. As he threw the final bow into the spitting fire, Draco looked down at the gold embossed title on the rather large book he was holding. He looked up into Pansy's excited eyes and couldn't help himself.

"You got me a book called 'How to Be a Good Husband'?"

Pansy nodded vigorously, obviously very pleased with herself. Pointing at the book, she said,

"Its bound in dragon hide, and there's a whole section at the back dedicated to contraceptive spells."

There was a pause.

"That's disgusting."

Pansy snarled again and warily Draco took a step back, but then Pansy's face mutated into a picture of sadness.

"Sorry it's a bit dog-eared," It morphed into an expression of glee. "But now I've memorised all the spells!"

Draco privately thought that those would be the spells Pansy would use most in her magical career.

Sickened, Draco tried to keep his voice level as he thanked her and sprinted up to his dorm, where he was met with a very angry owl.

"Darkwing!"

Draco scrambled to untie the letter and mere microseconds after he'd done so, Darkwing was flying off towards the owlery, making sure to smack Draco in the face before he left.

Grumbling about idiots and owls attacking him today, Draco unrolled the letter from his mother. He'd owled her after Snape had dragged him off the carriage earlier – he had been in a foul mood.

"_Draco,_

_Sorry darling you can't come home, I know you were looking forward to some peace and quiet… It's just that your father has some friends over and they're planning a surprise, and I thought perhaps it wouldn't be so peaceful after all. I'm afraid I didn't know until the day you were due to leave about their little gathering. I'm glad Severus caught you in time._

_You father thinks you're staying behind to spend more time with Pansy. Do try darling, and don't abandon her for too long._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Mother_

_Kiss kiss darling"_

Sighing, Draco reread and shredded the letter before setting fire to it, watching it smoulder and disintegrate in a small pile on the floor. Stupid Father. Stupid Deatheaters. Stupid Potter. Stupid Pansy.

Lovely Hermione.

Shaking his head to clear it of memories, Draco turned his wand on Pansy's present, transfiguring the title and author's name into a pair of entwining golden snakes, and then seating himself on his bed to blank the pages. One by one.

_**

* * *

**_

Harry sat in a plush red armchair which he had turned to face the portrait hole. He must look like an idiot, staring fixedly at the back of a painting and drumming his fingers slowly against the armrest. But then again, he was too angry to care. Most people in the common room had given him a wide berth when he had entered, and some had even wondered over to listen to Lavender gossiping about something, sitting beside Ginny who was grinning her head off.

The only people who had ventured near Harry was Ron - who was trying to toast marshmallows on the end of his wand in the fire, and the Creevey brothers - who had been caught when Harry had stalked in and hadn't moved an inch since then. They hadn't even closed their mouths. They were just staring at him.

Harry ignored them all.

He was waiting.

He was waiting for the girl who was just now coming through the portrait hole.

OoO

"Ford Anglia." Hermione muttered before the Fat Lady swung forward allowing her entry to the common room. Hermione stepped through the portrait hole and was blinded by an intense light. She slapped a hand over her eyes but her legs continued to move forward and trip over Ron. That sent her flying, and resulted in a hard landing smack on top of the Creevey brothers.

Harry was not impressed and scowled to show it. Ron almost dropped his wand in the fire. Lavender and Ginny laughed hysterically. Colin was trying to take pictures. Dennis was nowhere to be seen.

As quickly as possible and blushing heavily, Hermione got up and helped Dennis out of the depths of the sofa where her weight had squashed him, while Colin snapped away on his blasted camera. Her cheeks were red, but they paled perceptibly when she saw Harry.

Ron stood up and clapped her on the back.

"That was SPECTACULAR Hermione!"

Ginny came over, her face now serious and sympathetic.

"Don't worry 'Mione, I had that reaction when I first saw what the first years have done to the Christmas tree, but thankfully I only crashed into Harry." She winked at him. Unable to hear what they were saying, Harry's scowl deepened. Ginny ignored him and hugged Hermione with one arm.

"When you're done with Mr. Moody over there," She inclined her head at the aforementioned scowler, "Come and tell us about your week long rendezvous in the boys' dorms and how you got away with it." Before Hermione could say anything, Ginny had pushed her towards Harry and sauntered back over to Lavender.

Completely not expecting the push, Hermione stumbled again and landed in Harry's arms. He helped her to stand on her own.

"Developing a habit are we?" Harry asked, one eyebrow raised and a smile tugging on his lips.

"We need to talk Harry. Ron?"

She grabbed Harry's hand and Ron's elbow and led them all off up the stairs and into their dorm. She didn't see the eyes that followed her.

OoOoO

"So?" Asked Harry, closing the door and leaning his back against it, his arms crossed across his chest.

"So what?" Hermione asked, trying to bide time to gather her thoughts.

"Don't start Hermione," Ron said, sitting down next to her on his bed. "What did you do with Malfoy and why."

Hermione sighed and looked down at her hands, wondering where to start? She caught Harry's eyes as he came to sit down opposite her. Where to start, where to start? The beginning seemed like a good place…

"Well, I was walking back from the library and Draco ran into me - "

"Hold on." Harry held up a hand. "'Draco' now, is it?"

"Yeah!" Ron nodded and shifted forward on the bed. "Why were you so chummy when we got in?"

Hermione broke in angrily. "I won't tell either of you if you're going to interrupt." Chastised and disgruntled, Harry and Ron backed off, allowing Hermione to continue on with a stronger voice.

"Draco," She emphasised. "Was being chased by Parkinson and ran straight into me outside the library, and called me a mudblood. So I yelled for Pansy so she'd know exactly where Draco was." Harry and Ron smiled approval. "He clapped a hand over my mouth, dragged me into a nearby room and disarmed me."

"He WHAT!"

"How?"

"The usual way Ron, I wasn't expecting it."

"Constant vigilance!" Harry yelled unexpectedly, making both of them jump and Ron break into a fit of giggles. Harry continued in a quieter voice. "Always be on your guard around a Malfoy, especially a Deatheater Malfoy."

Hermione met his eyes. "He's not a Deatheater Harry.

"What do you know?"

"More than you."

Ron sobered and Harry stared grumpily at the wall past her shoulder.

"Draco dragged me in there, disarmed me and locked the door. And then it wouldn't open again."

"HA! So it _was_ all Malfoy's fault!"

"It was no one's fault." Harry fixed his eyes on Ron. "Remember what Dumbledore said? He said that Fate was in charge of the Room, so it would have happened anyway."

They had gone to Dumbledore? That was heart-warming. But what exactly did Dumbledore know about the Room of Want?

"Hermione?"

"Huh?" She focused her eyes to see both boys looking at her.

"What were your tasks?" Hermione noticed that they were both on the pale side.

"Well, we each had to sacrifice to the other something very dear to us - "

"So my dream was true!" Ron shrieked before turning to Harry.

"AHHH!" They both started to scramble backwards away from her and only stopped screaming when Ron fell off the bed, dragging Harry down with him. Hermione didn't have a clue what they were screaming about, and she told them so.

Quickly and briefly, Harry outlined Ron's dream and it was Hermione's turn to pale, but for different reasons…

Equally quickly, Hermione assured them both that Ron was not a prophet and that his dream had not come true, and the things she and Draco had had to sacrifice were their pride and dignity. Ron laughed outright at what Draco had had to do, but Harry broke in.

"But surely that wasn't it? Why were you injured?"

Hermione did not ask how he knew, but instead explained how the Room worked – about Wants and the power of dreams. She explained about Draco's spell ("So that's what it was!"), and Dumbledore coming to check on them ("Why didn't he bust you out!").

"So what was the third task?" Hermione had completely forgotten to mention it.

"We had to learn to trust each other."

"WHAT!" Harry leaped from the bed while Ron gulped.

"You… you trust a _Malfoy_?" Hermione could only nod.

"And you were celebrating freedom when Ron and I ran in on you, you weren't doing anything else? You haven't gone near Malfoy? You haven't kissed Malfoy?" Ron shuddered. Hermione lied. Harry sat down again on the bed with a soft thump. "As long as it stops Hermione, I think I might avoid any grey hairs for a few months yet."

Hermione smiled weakly, taking full note of the thinly veiled warning.

"Just don't ever disappear like that again. We were really worried." Hermione smiled much more fully this time, and pulled both boys into a tight bear hug, ignoring Ron as he choked on her hair. She'd missed them too. A bit. But then she'd had Draco for company…

And he was VERY good company.

They stayed like that for quite a while; Ron choking, Harry with his back to the door and Hermione with her eyes closed and her face buried in their shoulders. So they never saw the extendable ears that disappeared from underneath the door.

Surprisingly enough, Ron was the first to break from the embrace. Harry and Hermione lingered a little longer during which Ron ducked into his trunk and emerged triumphantly, clutching a large bag in his hand and waving it above his fiery head.

"Marshmallows anyone? After all, it IS Christmas Eve."

Christmas Eve! That would mean… it's Christmas tomorrow!

Hermione jumped off the bed.

"Sorry! There's something I… forgot…" And she dashed out of the room. What did she have she could give to Draco for Christmas? For surely he'd give her something, after everything that had happened in the Room…

OoO

"What's up with her?" Harry wondered aloud, helping himself to a marshmallow and sticking it on the end of his wand. Ron shrugged.

"Probably realised that no one's been feeding Crookshanks while she's been away."


	2. Presents and Passwords Part I Crook

**Out of the Room and Into the Fire**

**Disclaimer:**You name it, I ain't got it. (If you name Harry Potter, that is).

**Presents and Passwords Part I – Crookshanks and Catnip**

_**Last time:**_

"_What's up with her?" Harry wondered aloud, helping himself to a marshmallow and sticking it on the end of his wand. Ron shrugged._

"_Probably realised that no one's been feeding Crookshanks while she's been away."

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_

"Right." Thought Crookshanks, perched on top of the bed nearest the door. "I will pounce on the next person through that human catflap, and knaw on their paw until either I'm full or they give me some catnip. I mean, mice are all very well and good on a short term basis, but that greedy Mrs Norris is a wicked old woman who deserves to be cursed. Or kicked. Or hung upside down and petrified by a basilisk. Come to think of it I wonder why she's so afraid of water… Hold on! Stupid Human Alert. Human entering. On the count of three. One…" Crookshanks crouched in readiness. "Two…" He extended his claws. "ThreeAHHHH!" Crookshanks shrieked as he leapt into the air and brought his claws to bear on a familiar, very much missed bushy head.

"AHHH!" Shrieked Hermione as she staggered around the room, clutching at the hissing rug that had latched onto her skull. Her screams increased until finally she tripped over backwards on one of Lavender's shoes and fell onto her bed. There, Crookshanks disentangled himself from the mini jungle that was Hermione's head and promptly sat on Hermione's chest. Realising what had happened – or rather _not_ happened during her short absence, Hermione reached a hand over to her truck and after much fumbling brought out a bottle of catnip, which she emptied onto the floor.

A moment later she was sitting comfortably on her bed, Crookshanks free, and thinking what to get Draco for Christmas.

What to get Draco? What could she make quickly and easily? What would be useful? What would Draco like?...

Mittens!

She got started right away. She worked late into the night, knitting needles clicking away with a soft green wool while she caught up with some homework and Crookshanks finished rolling around on the floor and hid in Lavender's bed – awaiting her return to knaw on her leg. Just because he felt like it.

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**A/N**

I've assumed that Crookshanks is male. If you think otherwise, let me know with reference to where Rowling suggests that he is female. If you spot any other mistakes, please let me know!

Thanks.


	3. Presents and Passwords Part II Christm

**Out of the Room and Into the Fire**

**Disclaimer: **His hair is black, his eyes are green. / Harry Potter's his name and he's not all he seems.

I don't own him either.

(Pretty good, eh? I think that from now on, my disclaimers will feature a 'guess who?' mini-poem. They'll be really easy, but some will be harder and for those harder ones there might even be a prize… Hmmm… not a bad idea… I'll have to think about that one…)

**Presents and Passwords Part II – Christmas Day**

All he could see were knives, and blood. And Hermione being _crucio_-ed; because of him. And now he could see her dead body, lying cold and still. And now –

Draco woke up very suddenly, sweaty and panting. For a moment he was disorientated but he soon calmed down enough to realise that his nightmare had been just that – a nightmare. About the Room. But the more Draco tried to remember, the more he forgot and very soon he was sitting on his bed, pulling open the drapes and wondering what he'd got for Christmas.

He saw the grand pile of presents at the foot of his bed and grabbed the topmost; it was from Mother. Draco unwrapped it quickly to find a pair of supple leather gloves with a green fur lining.

"Excellent!"

They were just what he'd needed, especially with winter quidditch. He was gonna kick Potter's ass this year! Just let them wait.

Next was a long thin package from Father. Please let it be a broomstick, please let it be a broomstick… What! What the hell did his father give him a cane for? As if he _wanted_ a reputation as a stuck-up rich ponce. I mean, really. Perhaps he should give it to Madame Pomfrey, for students who might need walking support for a while. Draco laughed right out loud at the idea of Potter hobbling around with a snake-covered cane, courtesy of Draco Malfoy. Giving it to Madma Pomfrey didn't seem like such a daft idea after all…

But thinking about Potter led Draco to thinking about Hermione. He should probably give her something for Christmas. But what if she didn't give him anything? What an embarrassment! Oh well, Draco reasoned, she'd already stripped his pride from him, and he trusted her not to bite… He'd think about what to give her after breakfast. So Draco finished opening his presents and had a shower, because he was beginning to whiff a bit.

* * *

Draco was having a leisurely breakfast by himself at the Slytherin table. Other than Pansy, he was the only seventh year Slytherin and apart from Pansy the only other Slytherins who had gotten up in time for breakfast were a bunch of nabbering first years. Draco sat at the opposite end of the table to them. But as it was, he was having a leisurely breakfast of Cheerios when the Golden Trio walked in, all wearing frumpy knitted jumpers. Wierdos.

Pot and Wease stopped in the doorway to glare when they saw him, causing Hermione to almost walk into them from behind. Draco returned the boys' looks scowl for scowl, and rebelliously shoved a spoonful of Cheerios into his mouth. It might have been more affective however, if he hadn't started choking on them. Ron chuckled as Harry allowed himself a wide smile at Draco's expense, which made his mood blacken even further. But then he caught Hermione's eye as he downed his pumpkin juice, and slowly he lowered his cup.

"OK?" She mouthed, and at his nod she gave him a smile and a small wave before hurrying off to sit next to Potty Potter and the Measel. Good. Nothing had changed between them then.

Or had it?

OoO

Hermione ate a hurried breakfast and left before Ron had even started his third croissant. (Harry – who did not have the ability to swallow more than a Jaffa Cake whole in one go – was still on his first slice of toast). Hermione finished quickly and left Harry and Ron discussing maroon jumpers and the superiority of Mrs Weasley's cooking (Ron was speaking with a great deal of pride). And so it was that when Draco ambled out of the hall not long after, he was pounced upon by a bushy-haired, present-wielding lunatic.

"Merry Christmas!"

"You too Hermione." They stood staring at each other for a second or so while an awkward silence stretched between them. It was finally broken by a slightly pink Hermione proffering a red and gold package, smirking slightly.

"It's not a pink t-shirt is it?" He asked warily.

"No, it's a red one with 'I LOVE POTTER' plastered across the front."

Halfway through unwrapping it Draco dropped the package as if he'd been burned, and Hermione had to catch it and hand it back to him with assurances that she knew he did not love Harry OR Ron, and that she would never dream of giving him a t-shirt that said as such. Letting the paper fall to floor, revealed to Draco was what felt like two dead mice but were in fact some thickly knitted mittens. Trouble was, he'd just got some gloves… Aw screw it.

"Thanks Hermione! They're just what I needed!" He said enthusiastically, trying on the mittens and shoving his hands in his pockets to make sure that his new gloves weren't poking out. The way her face lit up with a happy glow was worth his little white lie he decided, which led him to make another one. "I got you a present too, but it's… er…" An idea popped into his head, and Draco figured he might as well get it over and done with.

"Follow me."

* * *

Hermione was following him warily, as the corridors gradually became darker and colder. Just because she trusted him didn't mean she was stupid. They were in Slytherin territory.

Trying to lighten the atmosphere, Draco mentioned something he had observed that morning.

"What was the Weasel smuggling into his mouth every time he thought you weren't looking? At breakfast." He clarified.

Hermione groaned. "I could kill him sometimes…" Draco's offer to do it for her went ignored. "He got this present for Christmas with no name saying who sent it, just the words 'Use them well'. I suspect that it's from Dumbledore but I –"

"Dumbledore favouring students? Tut tut. I _must_ tell Father. What was the present?" Despite his sarcastic words, Draco's curiosity was peaked.

Hermione who had been glaring at him threateningly allowed her face to soften into a smile.

"Ron got a bag of lemon drops."

A loud bark of laughter was her reply and Hermione looked around startled before turning back to Draco who was slapping his thigh and giggling like he'd been hit by a tickling charm. Quite disturbing really, when you thought of the usual Slytherin Ice Prince. He looked up with incredulity.

"So Weasel got lemon drops for Christmas from an 'unknown', all-knowing wizard, with a note saying 'Use them well' and he's scoffed over half of them already? He's such a thick-skulled ponce!"

"Draco!" Hermione admonished, but secretly she agreed and her smile grew even wider. That is until Draco stopped suddenly, pushed her into a dark corner and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'Half-Breeds'.

The sudden switch in Draco hurt Hermione deeply – even though she'd never admit it. She didn't understand! But comprehension dawned as the wall Draco was standing in front of slid quietly open and he slipped in behind it.

_**

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To be quite honest, it's creepy to be standing and shivering slightly from cold in a dark, unfamiliar dungeon passageway all by yourself, when hostile Slytherins could come round the corner at any moment, and would be quite willing to hex you into oblivion. Hermione was therefore was quite relieved when Draco made an appearance some ten minutes later.

"Did someone hold you up?" She asked irritably when the wall slid open again to reveal his lithe figure, holding something loosely in his hands. He shook his head in the negative.

"Nah, everyone's at breakfast. I just had a few finishing touches to add." As he said this he held out the present to her, and when she'd finished unwrapping it she almost let loose a gasp. It was beautiful.

"I figured that you love books so much… I thought you might like to write your own. It's not as if you don't have enough adventures…" Draco grinned and his eyes sparkled as Hermione slowly flipped through the blank pages – obviously impressed. He'd charmed it so that the leathery dragon skin had taken the colour of a deep rusty red rather than the serpentine green (it now reminded him of one of the dresses Hermione had worn in the Room. The one with a particularly low cut…). He'd left the golden snakes he'd transfigured earlier on the cover – he was a Slytherin, after all, and it was good to remind her of that. He'd also like to see her face when she tried to explain having a snake-covered, charmed book to Potter. He'd charmed it to be feather-light as well, you see.

Draco was admiring his handiwork (and justly so!) as Hermione's hands stroked the cover as if it was an especially tiny kitten. Or rabbit. No, scratch that thought. All bunnies must die. Thinking about horrific ways to rid the world of evil bunnies caused Draco to start when Hermione shyly pecked him on the cheek and quietly thanked him for such a lovely Christmas present. He could only reply that it was such a wonderful present because he was such a wonderful gentleman, and his clever comment earned him an amused but principally unjust whack on the arm. Draco brought himself up to his full height.

"Are you suggesting that I'm no gentleman? Because I'll have you know that I'm the most gentlemanly gentleman of the lot."

Hermione smiled slightly and shook her head in dismay. About to come up with a suitably cutting comment her arm was nearly yanked out of its socket as she was tugged around a corner and Draco pressed himself heavily against her. She tried to push him off and verbally protested, but he wouldn't budge and instead clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened with fear, and widened even further when she heard heavy slogging footsteps passing where they had been seconds before, before leaving the dark corridor and entering the Slytherin common room.

Slowly Draco removed his hand from her mouth, but stayed tightly pressed against her.

"That was close." He breathed, his breath tickling her cheek, his eyes staring at her lips. These said lips quirked upward in a smile as Hermione lifted an eyebrow.

"What was that about being a gentleman?"

Draco pushed himself away and straightened up, resuming his role as a knight in shining armour.

"But I have just rescued a damsel in distress!" He protested against any insinuation that he was less than the most perfect gentleman in the whole wide Wizarding world.

His façade dropped.

"Well, I'll be seeing you later Hermione. Merry Christmas." Flashing her a smile he started to head towards his common room again, but seeing her less than cheerful smile, and the way she glanced nervously both ways before hesitantly starting to shuffle down the corridor that lead deeper into the dungeons gave him a hint.

"But before I go, because I am the most _perfect_ gentleman, I shall escort my lovely lady at least to the great hall, unless she should fall prey to some foul creatures of the deep."

Hermione laughed merrily as he held out his arm to her. "You are such a flirt Draco, you should be locked up and fed only breadcrumbs and water for a week." She said, while falling into the role of a Lady and gently laying her hand on his forearm.

"I shall take that as a compliment m'lady." He said, bowing over her hand, and steered her in the direction of the great hall.

The façade had dropped within seconds and both Draco and Hermione were walking with their arms firmly by their sides, except for Hermione who had one arm clutching her Christmas present. Soon they neared the great hall and had parted. Draco was just about to turn back to his common room when he heard the voices of the Pot and Wease and changed his mind, and staying to listen.

"Hermione! What are you doing here?" Potter, Draco determined.

"Oh… I, er, got held up."

"By who?" That was the Weasel.

"Er… Malfoy."

"WHAT!" That was both of them, and they sounded outraged. Hee hee! Serves her right for telling them a part-truth. If it was me, he thought, I would have lied outright.

"He, er, wanted to talk."

"And?" Potter's voice was dangerously low. Uh oh. Hee hee! Poor Hermione.

"I told him that if he tried to pull that one on me again I'd hex an 'I love Potter' t-shirt onto him and keep it there with a permanent sticking charm.

Ha ha. That would be funny… WHAT! How dare she say something like that to them? That was a LIE! A downright lie! He'd never lie to his friends like that. Never! The Pot and Wease were laughing. Oh Merlin, kill him now.

But actually, it was quite a funny idea. His face would have been hilarious. Potter's would have been if it had been the other way round… Draco grinned and chuckled softly to himself as he heard their footsteps retreating and he turned back in the direction of his common room. I love Potter. Ha. Ha ha… I love Potter. Whatever. Ha ha…

_**

* * *

**_

"Hey Mick." A hand slapped the wall three times with an open palm. "How are you?" The hand knocked twice on the wall with a knuckle. "My name is Pansy Parkinson, I am a seventh year Slytherin Prefect and it is my turn to change the password." She slapped on the wall three more times and it hummed with recognition. Draco was going to love the new password, Pansy had long since decided. "The new password will be the first words said after the count of three." She recited. Pansy had come back early after breakfast to make sure no one was there to say anything before she got the chance. She knocked on the wall four more times. "One." She slapped on the wall. "Two!" Mick the wall glowed slightly. "Three…" Pansy breathed in to announce clearly and loudly the new password, but never got the chance because the wall slid open and there stood her beloved Draco shaking his head.

"I love Potter!" He stated, before chuckling to himself again and shaking his head, before making his way up to his dorm room, having completelymissed Pansy.

"Done." Mick's deep voice echoed around the room and his glowing – only visible from the inside where the password had to be changed – stopped abruptly. "The new password is... 'I love Potter'." And then he became the semi-inanimate object he had once been, while Pansy clutched at her hair, fell to her knees and howled.

The Slytherins were going to kill her, and it was all Draco's fault. Oh Merlin, what will Snape say? She was dead. Oh Merlin. Slytherin's new password was 'I love Potter'. Oh Merlin. She was dead. Oh Merlin. Snape's face. Oh Merlin. Oh crap.

**_

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_ **

**A/N**

Hey! This is a note to say thanks to the absolutely OVERWHELMING response to the first chapter from you WONDERFUL reviewers. I was on a high for days, and I mean it! I don't think I've been so happy for quite a while.

More reviews will usually mean quicker updates, but I'm going to warn you now that as it is, updates are going to be slow. Work is consuming my life at the moment, but I _will_ keep writing in the rare moments that I have any free time, and updates will usually be on a weekend.

But thank you for reviewing and please continue to do so. I'm a review addict, you see. Reckon we could beat 40 reviews for Presents and Passwords Part I and II? Or do you think that that's asking too much? I know… let me know in a review! Hee hee. Subtle, I know.


	4. So many things

**Out of the Room and Into the Fire**

By Greenfly

**Disclaimer** – An easy one to start off with – guess who:

"His hair is greasy; a shoulder-length curtain. But is he evil? I think not! For certain."

How many more times do I have to say it? I don't own Harry Potter! Don't make me say it again. Please… No more… (starts wailing hysterically). NOOO… ! Wait a minute. What do mine eyes see? Chocolate? (Prances off to the chocolate chip cookie-jar.) Yum yum yum yum yum…

Thank you to all my reviewers. You are all absolutely MARVELOUS, and I love you so much I would give you all a cookie… if I hadn't just finished them…

On with the fic!

* * *

**Chapter Four – So many things…**

"Hermione, where did you get that book?"

"Not telling you."

Ron had been trying to surprise an answer out of her for the past hour, and Hermione's patience was wearing dangerously thin. She was NOT going to tell him, because she refused to lie to her friends. 'Forget' to mention things – yes, bend the truth – yes, lie outright? Never. At least not yet.

Hermione was sitting at a table in the Gryffindor common room and having a great deal of trouble with the ferocious transfiguration essay that they'd been set ('Describe, with reference to politics and the legal system, why transfiguring human beings is generally discouraged. Include examples of past occurrences, and some history of human transfiguration.')

Understandably, Hermione was having a miserable time. (Yes, she did enjoy school work, and extra homework always gave her the most exhilarating thrill, but right now she just couldn't be assed. It was just too hard!) She dipped her quill into the inkpot once more and glanced from under her lashes at Harry, who was watching a game of exploding snap and Ron, who was pretending to read a book but was really scrutinizing her, his face scrunched in thought as he tried to figure out from where she had got the book.

She wanted to finish this paragraph at least before he asked again, but she had to be quick. She set her quill to the parchment.

"Hermione!" She jumped and the tip of her quill split. "Where did you get that book?"

Hermione's shoulders hunched and her back went rigid as she tried to take calming breaths. She would not strangle Ron, she would NOT strangle Ron... Nor stab her broken quill through his neck. Nor destroy the pack of especially noisy exploding snap cards that were slowly driving her insane. She couldn't. Just one small death... NO! She mustn't. It would distract her from her NEWTS.

"Hermione, where did you get…"

"AHHHH!" Hermione stood abruptly, her chair scraping noisily against the floor, and made a swift departure from the now quiet common room, making sure to throw her broken quill at Ron's startled face on the way. She needed a walk. A long walk, then a nice quiet, private place to fume and think what to write next in her essay. And to laugh at the look on Ron's face as her quill hit him smack in the middle of his forehead.

Hee hee.

* * *

A tiny bell chimed with a booming sound, and Snape knew immediately that the Slytherin password had been changed. That hag Parkinson had notified him in advance about the change, in accordance with school rules. He smirked when he thought of her intended password. If it was becoming of him to clap his hands with devilish glee like a girl, he would have. Oh, she was in for it when Draco discovered the new password. Naturally, Snape had given his permission for the change. 

Therefore he was extraordinarily surprised to hear a tentative knock at his office door, which was opened by a flick of his wand to reveal some mildly nervous first year Slytherins claiming that they could not enter the common room. Pansy was usually fairly organised about this sort of thing – letting your Slytherin peers know about a password change. He told them the new password sharply and they scurried out of the room, and Snape settled down once more to devise the following term's pop quizzes. He was therefore not overjoyed at the return of the dratted first years – even more frightened than before. Ensuring that a mask of anger was placed over his face, he smiled to himself as they shrank away from him slightly as he strode past. Oh how he loved scaring students. Mwa ha ha ha haaa.

Shortly they arrived at Mick the wall and Snape loudly declared the password that would make Draco cringe for the next two months. But nothing happened. After a couple more attempts, the first years were feeling slightly more confident and were sniggering slightly.

The Parkinson Hag had better not have stuffed it up, Snape threatened in his head as he stormed back to his office, closely followed by the bloody first years. He had extended the time period that her chosen password would hold for – under the pretence that the password would also cover the Christmas holidays – but really because he wanted to see Malfoy's son cringe.

He allowed the first years to floo through his fireplace into the common room before he stepped through the fireplace himself. He was going to find that Parkinson girl and demand why her chosen password was not working. She'd better not have changed it last minute to anything stupid. Otherwise there'd be hell to pay.

* * *

Moaning Myrtle's bathroom seemed the best place to be if you wanted to be alone, and you had learned how to tune out Myrtle's whinging. So that's where Hermione was headed for, after a brief sprint around the quidditch pitch to rid herself of any manifesting murderous tendencies. Now she could settle down for some quiet time to think and to giggle. She just wanted to be solitary, in a reasonably quiet place. Hermione was therefore reasonably curious when she heard a piercing wailing echoing from the bathroom, followed by Moaning Myrtle's voice telling whoever it was to shut up in a very unsympathetic way. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but Hermione was no cat and she went to investigate. 

She pushed the door open very slightly and poked her head round it, and she couldn't help it. The word just left her. It wasn't her fault.

"Pansy?"

The said girl whirled to face her, and instead of the usual snarl that Hermione was greeted with, Pansy hid her face once more in her hands.

Now, Hermione was not in any way a cruel person. She did have dark thoughts yes, and by gum did she have a lot of enemies that she would quite happily see get turned into teapots, but when one of her lower, third-ranking enemies was sobbing her heart out, Hermione had to see what she could do. She came forward and stopped in front of Pansy, hesitated, then pulled her into a gentle hug.

Pansy froze before pushing Hermione roughly away. No one had ever hugged her, and she was going to let any mudblood start now. But her grief was just too great and within seconds she had dissolved into ear-splitting wails once more.

"PANSY!" Hermione shouted above the shrieks. "WHAT'S WRONG?" She was ignored. "PANSY?" Still, shrieks. Shrugging, Hermione turned to leave; anywhere was better than here. But as she laid her hand on the door handle, a sudden eerie silence met her ears and she turned to see Pansy looking at her sorrowfully.

"I'm in deep shit mudblood." Hermione would have left right then and there, if it hadn't been for her damn insatiable curiosity.

"What's wrong?"

"I changed the password."

"To what?"

"Something that wasn't planned. Bloody Draco had to walk in, announce something utterly ridiculous to the sofas, and then leave. And now that's the new password." Pansy banged her fist against the sink with a resounding thump, before massaging her fist.

"What did Draco say?"

Pansy looked at Hermione sharply. "None of your business mudblood." Hermione shrugged. Seeing she was about to leave, for no apparent reason Pansy plunged on. "The other Slytherins are going to kill me when they find out though."

"But it wasn't your fault."

"And do you think they'll care? Draco's their prince, I'm only their queen." She shook her head sadly, while Hermione's confusion increased. Wasn't a queen usually higher than a prince? Ah well.

"So what are you going to do?"

Pansy looked around, as if examining a new piece of jewellery.

"I'm going to stay here until classes start again, and I can be protected."

"NO!" Moaning Myrtle wailed in final objection before diving down a toilet with a large splash of water, to sob out of sight in the U-bend.

Hermione tried to reason with Pansy, but she would have none of it. So half an hour later, Hermione left the bathroom with promises not to tell any Slytherins where she was, thinking that Pansy would forsake her refuge pretty swiftly in favour of food, and wondering what the hell the new Slytherin password was? What on earth would Draco announce to the common room that would have Pansy so distraught? She might never know…

And so Hermione trudged back to Gryffindor common room, ignored the questions and queries thrown at her and curled up in bed with a good book, waiting for lunch.

* * *

Lunch really was a spectacular affair. Despite the minimal number of people staying at Hogwarts, Christmas Day was being celebrated with great enthusiasm – the decorations having almost completely changed since breakfast from a holly green and berry red to pink and gold fairies bearing Christmas lights prancing around the place. Draco eyed them with disgust. 

The traditional house tables had once more been dispensed with in favour of one particularly long table where teachers outnumbered students two to one. Draco ensured that there were at least two seats separating him from anyone else on either side. Unfortunately, the Golden Trio arrived, and these seats were the only ones still unoccupied. There goes another genius plan. Those pesky kids.

The Potty and his pet Weasel almost raced to reach the seats furthest from him. Honestly! It wasn't like he smelled or anything. He'd only had a shower that morning! But then Draco decided that their childish behaviour was perhaps for the best, as Hermione's only option was to sit right next to him. Ha ha. Lunch was going to be fun.

"Draco." She nodded as she sat down next to him.

"Hermione."

"Alright?" She asked, glancing at him, then she got a funny look in her eye. "Warm enough?"

"What? Oh, yeah thanks. The mittens worked a treat when I was outside earlier. Did you spell them to be waterproof or…?" Their whispers subsided along with any other conversation as Dumbledore stood up from his chair, halfway down the table.

"Bibbidy Bobbidy Boo. A merry Christmas to you. Jibber jabber wocky munch munch squee!"

"Nutter." Ron and Draco muttered at the same time, as Dumbledore sat down and they both reached forward to help themselves to some potatoes. Hermione tried to hide her smile. But when Draco knocked Ron's hand out of the way so that he could get at the potatoes first, and Ron scowled darkly at him from under those bright orange eyebrows (half of which was missing – they had never found it after he had splinched himself), Hermione let out a very unladylike snort of laughter. Poor Harry mistook the sound and thought she was choking, and promptly started whacking her on the back, making her cough and splutter. Draco handed her some pumpkin juice which she drank, shuddering (pineapple and coconut juice is sooo much better); and Ron looked around anxiously because he couldn't dream of anyone choking unless they had eaten Cheerios, and there were no Cheerios in sight! Unless she had eaten them all! His confusion changed to a look of pride as he gazed at his precious Hermione. He knew she had it in her to inhale breakfast cereal! It wasn't that hard if you try!

After the glazed look left Hermione's eyes (she could swear that juice was spiked with something) she felt something discretely tap on her leg under the table and looked in the direction of Draco.

"You ok?" He asked curiously, quirking an eyebrow. Damn Potter, she _obviously_ hadn't been choking until he'd thumped her on the back with his thunder hands. Can't he recognise a pig-like snort of laughter when he heard one? Brain the size of a peanut, that one. Don't know how he does it…

"I wasn't even choking. Just er… coughing."

"Suuure. Coughing. That's right. Coughing…" He replied, absently piling caramelised carrots onto her plate.

"Er… Draco? What are you doing?" Draco looked sheepish for a second, pink tinging his cheeks. What _was_ he doing? But caramelised carrots are so good…

He was distracted as something whizzed past his ear. As he turned back towards the table, another pea hit him in the eye, making it water. Laughter could be heard. Oh… they were in for it now.

Hermione hadn't noticed, but she did look up at the sound of sniggering.

"What?" That look of innocence wouldn't fool a donkey's bum. Weasley really did have a lot to learn.

"Are you chucking food again?" Silently Draco cheered – no one fooled his Hermione! But then he got hit by another pea, sent his way by Potter as Hermione's attention was consumed with Weaselbee.

"Harry!" Hermione reprimanded. "Stop! Dumbledore's looking at us."

Malfoy's head swivelled to see Dumbledore who was staring resolutely at his plate of roast, and mushrooms cooked in garlic butter. Was it just him or did that mother-of-Merlin beard of his twitch? His gaze turned back to Hermione, who was muttering to him.

"Just ignore them. They're being silly. They do this to me and Seamus and Dean all the time. They think it's funny. I really don't…" She had to stop because she couldn't talk around the food she'd put in her mouth.

A piece of sweet corn hit Draco in the forehead, followed by even more sniggering. Ignore them, ignore them. He would not stoop to their level. Retaliation would only encourage them. Draco had to ignore them. In the name off all things magical, ignore them…

His silent chant was working quite well, until a gasp came from his side as a pea flew directly into Hermione's ear. He would have laughed at her face, if a rather large piece of cauliflower hadn't just bounced off of his nose. His nose for Wizard's sake! His nose! What kind of aim was that? His nose! He could feel gravy on his face. Oh… now they were really gonna get it. Another pea, discretely thrown, came flying his way, which he dodged. He grabbed a chicken leg and hurled in with all his might at Potter's head.

"Oompf!" Potter slid partway down his seat as silence descended on the entire table. Uh oh… But before any of the teachers could say anything, he was yanked up by one arm and manhandled from the Hall.

"_What_ the hell did you do that for? You could have seriously hurt him!" Hermione ranted as soon as the door snapped shut behind her.

"And what makes you think I wasn't trying to!" Draco's rage at Potter and Weasel, and consequent humiliation took form against Hermione. "They are useless PRATS! I mean, can you get any more childish? They're so STUPID. Maybe I knocked Potter's ONE EXISTING BRAIN CELL out of existence, but it's not such a big loss anyway because it will make no DIFFERENCE! Potter and Weasley are ABSOLUTE TWITS! And so are you for ignoring them! What did they do to you? _Imperio_ you to put up with them? Where is your manhood woman?" Angrily, Draco started to storm away, but unfortunately for him Hermione was not one to be shouted at.

"Manhood! MANHOOD! I'll give you manhood you big-footed baboon!" Hermione was catching up with him as he hurried away from her, her face like thunder.

She kicked him in the backside.

"AHHHH! What was that for you… you bloody teapot!"

"THAT was for… Teapot?" The thunderous look was replaced with a quickly stifled giggle. "Teapot?"

"ARGH!" Draco shrieked in exasperation before beginning to storm away again.

"Did you just call me a teapot? Draco Malfoy just called me a teapot!" Hermione announced gleefully to a nearby suit of armour. Oh, he would never live this down.

"Wait, Draco! Do you know what the new password to Slytherin is?" Draco stopped in his tracks as Hermione hurried up to him once more. The randomest stuff occurs to people sometimes...

There was no new password. Wait… it was Pansy's turn to change it and OH DEAR MERLIN! Draco hurried away once more in the direction of the Slytherin common room, this time without Hermione behind him.

She was genuinely curious about the new password but she guessed that right now wasn't the time. She was quite annoyed with him for insulting her friends, but when he had called her a teapot… oh! What an insult! She was sooo scared.

She made her way back to the Great Hall to return to those caramelised carrots. She'd never had them before and they were pretty tasty. Perhaps she should get some for Pansy?

Naaah…

As she entered Harry looked up at her and nodded to let her know that she was alright, for which she was glad. She resumed her place once more – everyone had almost finished dinner.

"Hey, what went on out there? We heard shouting." Harry took her hand and squeezed it gently as Ron looked across the table at her with concern.

"Don't worry. I can hold my own. Especially against Draco." Noticing a twinkle appear in her eyes, Harry could help but question as he released her hand in favour of his fork.

"Care to share?" Ron leaned forward to hear better.

"I yelled at him a bit for being an idiot, he called you both stupid twits, I kicked him, and he called me a teapot."

"A teapot?" Ron said, disbelieving.

"Yep. A teapot."

Their attention was drawn away down the table by a badly hidden snort, and they turned to see Dumbledore staring once more very resolutely at his plate, his silver beard quivering ominously as McGonagall looked at him with worry.

* * *

And soon their Christmas holidays came to an end. Pansy snuck out of the bathrooms that very night for some treacle tart, and was caught by none other than a very angry Snape (much to Moaning Myrtle's relief). Snape had been searching high and low across the castle for her, and after many hours of torturous interrogation ("What did you change the password to?" "'I love Potter', sir." "To _what_!") Snape almost (_almost!_) a heart attack. But thankfully didn't, and instead informed Miss Parkinson that she would be the one telling the new password to the Slytherins when they got back from Christmas break, and that she could practise now on the existing Slytherins. 

Draco was not impressed by the password, to say the least.

But of course, the password was fixed and no one except the Headmaster could change it for the next two months. But unfortunately Professor Dumbledore seemed to find it 'endearing', and refused to do so.

Snape was not pleased. Imagine him having to profess his love to Potter every time he wanted to check up on his Slytherins?

He was not a happy bunny. But then again, he was never a bunny to begin with… until that fateful night...

**

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A/N **

What are the other Slytherin's reactions to the new password? And most importantly, now that all his mates are back, what is going to happen to our most beloved big-footed baboon and his favourite teapot? Review, and next chapter you might find out!

What do you think about me writing a short fic about Snape turning into a happy bunny? I have one I'm thinking of writing at the moment, and I could slip it in there. OR should I write a one-shot? Or should I stop being silly and not write anything at all, except for this fic? Let me know!

-Greenfly


	5. Pass the Password

**Out of the Room and Into the Fire**

**Disclaimer : **JOY to the world, and we shall sing. A SONG, of ME, owning NOTHING. Not Har-ry Pot-ter, nor his really groovy frie-nds. Now I shall mourn my loss. Now I shall mourn my loss… ForEVER and ev-er I'll mourn my loss.

Aren't I just FAB? (Feel free to disagree. Toto does.)

* * *

**Chapter Five – Pass the password**

Draco watched with morbid fascination as Pansy led the Slytherins back to their dorm after the welcome-back-to-school-and-evil essays feast. Now was the moment of truth.

He couldn't wait.

His fellow snakes were in a cheerful mood (for evil people) after a relaxing holiday and a hearty meal. Most of them had even gained weight, Draco was pleased to note. But he himself was impervious to weight gain, as he was Marvelous Malfoy the Magnificent. But all that weight they'd gained was going to drop off the moment they jumped out of their socks when they found out what the new password was. For the next TWO MONTHS! What was Dumbledore doing? Why was Snape's pestering not working? But more importantly, WHAT THE HELL HAD PANSY BEEN THINKING? Yes yes, she claimed it was him, but he was in denial, and no one would believe her even if she told them.

Draco was planning on writing to Father to get the password changed, but Father would tell his 'friends', and Draco wanted to see his fellow Slytherin's reactions for himself. First hand.

This was going to be _fun_.

_**

* * *

**_

Pansy walked down to the dungeons, followed by most of the Slytherin house. _Breathe in… breathe out... breathe in…_ why is breathing not working!

Pansy walked down to the dungeons, followed by most of the Slytherin house. why is breathing not working! 

Draco Malfoy was sauntering along just behind her. This was just amusement for him, entertainment. She was the one going to be skinned alive. _She_ was the one who hadn't slept for nights on end because of worry. And it wasn't even her choice of password! But _nooo_, the Ice Prince can't possibly be to blame. Bloody ice cream man wannabe. What is with that hair, anyway? At least he doesn't gel it back anymore, but still! Oh look, there's Mick the Wall! Hi Mick! Pansy waved vigorously (mentally of course), but stopped quickly. Mick was a bad sign. Why was Mick a bad sign? Oh yeah! Because she had to tell the ENTIRE SLYTHERIN HOUSE THAT 'I LOVE POTTER' IS THEIR NEW PASSWORD FOR THE NEXT TWO MONTHS. How could she forget?

Pansy wrapped her cloak more tightly around her and scurried forward, putting a few feet distance between her and the rest of her house. She reached Mick, panting only a little (she was proud to note).

"I love Potter." She whispered. Maybe it didn't have to be like this. Maybe she could avoid telling them altogether. Stick up a sign up or something…

"What was that Pansy dearest?" Draco sauntered over, followed by the rest of the house, and swung an arm over her shoulder, effectively halting her escape. Pansy bit her lip and shook her head slightly, indicating that Draco should shut up and let go of her so she could hide.

But Draco didn't get the hint. He turned to her and in a convincing stage whisper (dungeons have really good acoustics) asked

"When are you going to tell them about the new password?"

Crabbe and Goyle were just behind him, and like the brainless pigs they were, echoed his words, thereby furthering Draco's plan.

"There's a new password?" They asked stupidly, in loud voices. This attracted the rest of the house's attention. Along with the fact that they'd stopped moving. This was getting them grumpy. All according to plan.

Blaise pushed himself to the front of the crowd, some burly sixth years not far behind him.

"There's a new password? What is it?" Blaise's slanted eyes narrowed at Pansy's silence. "What have you done Parkinson?" He asked in a deadly tone.

Pansy put up her hands, palm outwards in a calming gesture and took a hurried step back (Draco had let go of her and moved away a little, to a better spectator seat). She could see Miles Jixof (one of the burly afore-mentioned sixth years) crack his knuckles. He did that a lot, but unfortunately he was a guy who fancied himself a leader, and encouraged others to follow in his distinctly confused footsteps. Pansy backed away further, stopping only when her backside bumped into a sofa. Her fellow Slytherins fanned out around and behind her. Her nervous, twitching eyes caught Draco in a corner, watching her with a smirk. Ooh, he could make her mad.

Her anger at Draco using her for entertainment turned to foolhardiness. After all, when you're angry you don't generally think things through, do you? Pansy would later regret this rule of humankind.

Pansy looked around, and finding what she sought, she stomped over to a coffee table and climbed on top of it, so she was head and shoulders above everyone else and all attention was on her.

"Hem hem." She stated, unnecessarily some might feel, since she 'hem hem'-ed a silent room. But she found the sound useful.

"I am Pansy Parkinson and as a Seventh Year Prefect I invoked my right to change the password of the Slytherin common room." From the many eyes staring at her, she could almost hear the silent '_and…?_', so she plunged on. "And due to… unfortunate circumstances beyond my control," her eyes flicked to Draco's corner and his smirk grew wider. "The new password is… mmmbpfh."

"What?"

"I can't hear you!"

"Speak louder!"

Pansy drew another deep breath.

"Mmmbpfh" She stated.

"Come again?"

"Grindewald's gonads Pansy! Speak clearly."

Pansy breathed once more, and her eyes locked onto Draco's. Merlin, he was starting to feel bad…

"I love Potter."

"…"

Silence met her ears, until Miles just _had_ to make sure he'd understood.

"You mean to tell us," he rotated on the spot, arms spread wide as he looked at his surrounding Slytherins before facing once more at Pansy. "You mean to tell us that you changed our password, the Slytherin Snakes, Generally Evil-Wizard Supporting Slytherin Snake's password to 'I love Potter'?" He spat the word 'Potter' like it was filth in his mouth.

"Yes. I did."

"…"

Silence.

"GET HER!" Miles shrieked, picking up a chair and waving it above his head like a pitchfork. The other Slytherins (minus a few including Draco) did likewise, with other chairs and their wands. Crabbe and Goyle struggled to pick up a sofa while Millicent Bulstrode got herself stuck in the Christmas tree.

"GET HER!" They chanted in echo of Miles' words.

Realisation dawned on Pansy like someone tipping ice down your pants and then pinning down your arms so you can't get it out. In this case, realisation was not pleasant. What had she done?

Pansy shrieked hysterically and ran for the girls dorms; dodging people, chairs and curses alike while she was chased across the common room by her fellow Slytherins, who had picked up Miles' chant of 'Kill the Witch! Kill the Witch!'

Pansy flew up the staircase as if a pack of angry Slytherins were chasing her. Miles reached the staircase first and hastened in her footsteps. Halfway up, it was his turn to shriek, along with half the house, as they slid painfully back down the stairs again, in a snowball effect, chairs wands and limbs waving manically in the air, knocking other Slytherins unconscious.

The pile of bodies that resulted at the bottom was _very_ amusing, and Draco cackled merrily. This had turned out better than he had thought.

No one who had avoided the fight moved to help the pile – the girls continued filing their nails and the boys trudged up to their dorms, alternately laughing to themselves – stopping and cursing Pansy for the new password – and laughing again.

The pile of Slytherin at the bottom of the staircase took a while to sort out.

And what of Pansy? She locked and charmed her dorm door with almost every spell she new (including a few contraceptive ones for good luck), and then did the same to her hangings. She would live to see another day, if she had anything to say about it.

And what of Miles? After many torturous hours of lying in a heap, he decided that no one was going to help him up and so removed himself from the very top of a very large pile. Leaving his minions to pick themselves up, he left for bed, plans whirling in his mind for how he was going to murder Pansy alive. Yeah. ALIVE, he thought with an evil glint in his eye.

_**

* * *

**_

"You didn't happen to have anything to do with this, did you Draco?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Blaise's face crinkled into a smile as he got up from Draco's bed, where they had been talking.

"Oh, the fact that I know you so well. You rascal."

A green satin pillow whacked against the side ofBlaise's head before he could slip his hangings shut. Blaise chucked it back, but it bounced harmlessly off of Draco's hangings. He could hear Draco's muffled laughter. That schemer.

"Goodnight Blaise."

"Goodnight Draco." Blaise replied as he slid under his duvet.

"'Night Crabbe, Goyle. Don't snore." Draco warned.

Draco turned over and closed his eyes, and was eventually lulled to sleep by the sound of pigs snoring.

**_

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_ **

**A/N**

Hey, a shorty – I know. But the next chapter will be up soon and it will be relatively long. I've practically WRITTEN it! (Well, I've written out the title…).

This chapter was in response to requests for a semi-decent reaction to the new password. I hope it meets expectations ;-). While I'm on about reviews, I can't help myself. I have to say a huge thank you to everyone, but in particular HPFan123321 for a review that kept me laughing for days. Not sure why… but it was hilarious. (My twisted humour coming into play again). Oh, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY xXx xesha xXx! Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…

**Next Chapter** – Potions! Mwa ha ha. Golly gosh I'm evil.

CHECK MY PROFILE PAGE FOR A SUPER-GROOVY LINK THAT YOU **HAVE** TO CHECK OUT! Oh, and for updates regarding the progress of my fics…

Btw, sorry about the Grindewald's gonads thing, I just could help myself. Think about it:

Good people: "Merlin's Beard!"

Bad people: "Grindewald's gonads!"

People like me: "mmm… cookies…"

Do I even need to ask for reviews? I think not! The brain waves I am sending out are enough. Your head is throbbing with the thoughts 'Must review greenfly, must review greenfly, otherwise Toto will bite my butt, otherwise Toto will bite my butt, must also send greenfly cookies in the mail, must also send greenfly cookies in the mail.. WAIT! No! Greenfly will give my virtual cookies if I review, greenfly will give me virtual cookies if I review…'

Cookies anyone? Their chocolate chip… mmm… and the chocolate is all gooey… mmm… On second thought, Digestive biscuit anyone?

What?


	6. Musings and Marshmallows

**Out of the Room and Into the Fire**

By Greenfly

**COMPETITION**

PRIZE AVAILABLE. If you can guess who it is, then you get to pick a situation/line that will feature in this fic! Wahoo! (i.e. Draco wearing leather, an embarrassing situation that someone walks in on, or someone having to say the line 'Look Harry, chocolate biscuits are falling from the sky!' or 'I _knew_ you were a teapot!'. Okay, how cool is that prize? Very cool thinks greenfly. Toto agrees. If it goes well, I'll do it more often. Heh heh heh… (rubs hands together in anticipation).

Okay, guess who. (drum roll please).

A member of the Slughorn Club. Tall, handsome, intelligent, ambitious… evil?

(Reads back over that) Kind of an anti-climax, wasn't it? Ah well, on with the fic! (drum roll please... Look, I don't care if your arms are bloody aching! I said DRUMROLL! Roll that drum damnit! No! You can't fire me! I CREATED you, so when I say drum roll, you drum roll or I will… un-create you. Yeah, that's it. I will UN-create you! Mwahahaha! (drum roll) Oh, you always have to go and spoil my fun, don't you? Darn it, I need a cookie.)

Well, now we have a drum roll, I proudly/modestly present to you, another chapter!

TADA!

(Oh how you're gonna wish you'd carried on reading 'Spot the Dog' instead of turning to ffn and reading this.)

Oh. And I own nothing except for my fingers and right kidney.

* * *

**Chapter Six – Musings and Marshmallows**

Breakfast. Ahhh… the best time of the day. Not.

Draco Malfoy was not a morning person, but apparently Hermione was by the look of her grin as she entered the great hall and winked at him in greeting. Completely without his permission Draco's lips quirked upwards and suddenly his pancakes looked much more appealing. The way the sunlight glinted off the maple syrup was simply awe-inspiring. He'd try to remember this image so that he could learn to paint and paint it later, and it would be put in a museum when he died and thousands would flock to see his masterpiece and would think-

"OI! NUMBSKULL!" Draco jumped and edged backwards when he saw the fork that was waving erratically close to his face.

"Wha-?"

"Me - Blaise. You - Malfoy. Me – Earthling. You – off in la-la land with the fairies. Curiously enough while staring at The Mudblood."

Draco's eyes snapped to Blaise's long face at these last words. Uh oh…

"Why _were_ you staring at Ranger Granger, eh?" Blaise laughed loudly at some internal joke. "You don't-" The laughter died suddenly. "You _do_?"

"No." That was too quick. Should have asked what he was talking about.

"How do you know what I'm talking about then?"

Sly dog. Snake to the centre. Think of a good comeback Draco, think of a good comeback. And NOT 'you are a teapot'…

"I can tell by the evil glint in your eye, Zabini."

DAMNIT Draco! He'll take that as a compliment! Can't you think of anything better? "And because you are a teapot." Draco added quickly, before Blaise had a chance to answer. Internal Draco covered his face with his hands and wept tears of fury. Meanwhile, External Draco had suddenly found his glass of pumpkin juice particularly interesting. I wonder how you make pumpkin juice…

"Draco. You've reverted back to the teapot. I am obviously intimidating you and that only happens when I'm onto something you want to hide. Remember when you found out that your houself had packed one of your mum's bras in your school trunk and you tried to pass it off as Pansy's…?"

"SHHHH!"

Head's whipped round to see Draco with his hand tight over Blaise's mouth, hissing loudly in his ear. Pink tingeing his cheeks Draco slowly removed his hand and stopped imitating a snake in a washing machine with Dumbledore's socks.

"I do not fancy the mudblood."

"Then why did you wince when you said 'mudblood'."

"I didn't."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Mum's bra…"

"I did." Draco hung his head.

"Just don't make it so obvious Draco. Son." Blaise said, patting Draco on the shoulder in a fatherly way.

"What? You're not going to shun me? Owl my father?" His only response was a feigned look of hurt. Now he came to think of it, Blaise had a very mobile face…

"Why in Grindewald's gonads' ancestry would I care who the hell you fancy?"

"Because, because…" Draco was floundering.

"You're floundering, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"I have a reputation to uphold Draco. I am a sly, evil, conniving bastard from Slytherin. I worship the Dark Lord and will be his servant yadda yadda yadda. It doesn't mean I have to agree with it. It's a way of life. I use the mask. It's how I survive. Now you have a choice to make, but I'm not going to tell you what it is because it's too early in the morning and I haven't quite figured it out for myself yet. But if you're gonna go all goo-goo eyed at a mudblood Gryffindor, do it in privacy – not at the Slytherin breakfast table. And make sure that everyone else thinks you hate her."

"Wow Blaise, that was… deep."

Blaise dramatically flicked imaginary hair over his shoulder, before going back to his now very soggy Cheerios.

Merlin, Draco thought glumly as he glanced at Hermione before watching the arrival of the post. Breakfast was never a good time of the day.

* * *

Ronald Weasley had a very mobile face, Hermione decided, watching him with morbid fascination as he shovelled food past the hole in his jaw and saw it mysteriously disappear before coming in contact with his teeth. When her observations became too much, Hermione would glance slyly at Dainty Draco and she would feel strengthened, ready to go back to alternately scolding and staring at Ron.

The Golden Trio had had some chats over the weekend. Hermione had finally relented and told the other two the origin of the book she was so often seen writing in. Their responses were… unusual, but expected nonetheless. But after many, _many_ discussions Harry had drawn an ultimatum; a kind of bet, if you will. He and Ron would accept that she didn't consider Malfoy an enemy, and would not hex him, until such time that he made the slightest sound that suggested something offensive towards Hermione.

Hermione had high hopes. If Harry and Ron could accept her not hating Draco, perhaps they could accept her… liking Draco, if that was the word? She knew that Draco wouldn't insult her. Not now. Not after the Room. He'd promised never to call her the 'M' word again, because he now knew it hurt her. And she was sure that he had feelings for her too. If only they could figure out a way to make it work… Wouldn't it be great if Draco could renounce his Death Eater heritage and they could live happily ever after? Just like a muggle fairy-tale…

"Hermione's gone off to book-world again Ron."

"Do you reckon she would mind if I drew on her face?"

"Probably. She's strange that way."

Sighing, Ron helped himself to Hermione's pancakes. (She had confiscated his bag of lemon drops).

* * *

Harry had finally dragged Hermione back to the living and she in turn had finally dragged Ron away from her food, so together the Golden Trio (as they were so ironically named) were leaving the Great Hall. As was her wont, a sudden thought suddenly struck and left Hermione and she suddenly stopped stock still in the doorway trying to grasp and the comet tail of this very sudden thought. Harry and Ron waited patiently for her in the hallway.

And as was their wont to do, Draco and Blaise finished breakfast and decided to leave for their first lesson. Seeing the doorway obstruction, Blaise stood behind the Afro-Wannabe Girl (as he privately liked to call her), waiting for her to move. Draco however, saw a chance to prove his non-feelingness. He stalked up and pushed her roughly out of his way so that she fell into the door and bashed her funny bone (not a funny experience at all, I tell you now).

It took a minute for the harshly spoken words to register in Hermione's mind, but when they did she had to blink furiously. "Get out of my way mudblood bitch" was not something that you wanted to hear early on a Monday morning from the guy you have a crush on. Believe me. What made it worse was the look on Harry's face; a cross between triumphant, angry and sympathetic. (He too had a very mobile face).

Draco stalked off and around the corner, Blaise chasing after him and shaking his head sadly. Harry held Ron back both physically and mentally from hexing the snakes by pointing out that revenge is a dish best served cold (he should know) and that Hermione was still half-sprawled across the floor in the doorway. Being the gentlemen that they are, both boys rushed to help Hermione and mutter 'consoling' comments about what a dastardly guy Malfoy was, but Hermione only heard an irritating buzzing. She was staring after where Draco had turned a corner out of sight.

She ignored Harry as he brushed her down and straightened her clothes for her, and she ignored Ron as he picked up all her books and repacked her bag. A platinum head had poked itself around the corner and after looking both ways a pair of blue eyes fixed on her own.

"Sorry." (Thank Merlin Mundungus Fletcher had taught her to lip-read).

And then the head was gone along with those pretty blue eyes and the sincere apology that had made her so confused, and trebled the difficulty of her Arithmancy class because she kept drifting off and thinking about it. What on earth was going on? He'd ruined her bet with Harry! Now there was no hope. The idiot. What did he think he was doing! He couldn't mess with her and get away with it! She'll beat him up! (Professor Vector looked mildly worried when his favourite student started beating her hand into her fist under the table, but he decided not to comment). She WAS going to beat him up! Just let him wait. She'd kick him in the butt, and knee him in the balls, and punch him in the gob… no. Not the gob, she liked his lips the way they were. She'd punch him in the eye. No, not the eye. Old yellow bruising didn't suit his complexion… Right, she'd have to punch him in the chest then… But what if she hurt him? Okay, she'd just have to settle for kneeing him in the balls…

But why in the name of Dobby's tea cosies did he apologise to her?

Git.

Oh, this was too confusing. And Professor Vector was eyeing her oddly.

Pervert.

And why was her hand hurting?

* * *

Lunch featured entertainment… of a sort. If you consider Hermione biting into her hot bread roll (with melted butter) and suddenly turning into a giant canary entertaining.

The Slytherin's did. Draco had been watching her all of dinner, and now she knew why.

Git.

Only Blaise noticed that Draco's raucous laughter seemed a little strained, but he wouldn't say a word. Currently Draco seemed to be both laughing as loudly as he could and trying to apologise with his eyes.

Hermione was most displeased. Draco insults her, pushes her to the ground and hurts her arm, makes jokes about her loud enough for loads of people to hear, shoves her whenever they passed in the corridor and then decides to turn her into a giant canary in front of the whole school! And _now_ he was looking at her and making his eyes go all weird as he laughed and it was freaking her out. He looked like a zombie on crack. Wierdo.

Oh, he had so pissed her off.

And the worst bit was that neither Harry NOR Ron jumped to her defence at her latest addition to her insults list because currently they were too busy laughing themselves! (In their defence they were trying to be subtle and hide it, but they weren't doing a very good job).

Hermione had to do something. And she had a plan. (Not a very good one, but she didn't realise that until much, much later because mastermind-planner Harry didn't think of it, and after all it only took her 0.534 seconds to come up with.)

She had a plan. The bastard. He wasn't going to mess with her and get away with it. No sirree. Not Hermione bookworm Elizabeth Granger.

* * *

It was Potions, and Ron was musing. Muse muse muse… See? Musing happening. Right here. In Ron's oddly shaped, triangular brain. Muse muse muse. But what about? AHA!

Currently Ron was musing about Snape.

Muse muse muse.

It was the first day back at school after Christmas break, and their first Potions lesson, right after lunch. Now Hermione usually assumed that Ron's brain turned to mush after lunch, and usually she'd be right, but today was different! Oh yes. Today he was making some fantastic revelations, and they went on the lines of this.

The entire class had been waiting outside the Potions class like usual, and the door had been flung aggressively open by Scowly-Snape aka Severus The Smile Sever-er. Ha! Wasn't he a genius? But moving swiftly on. Severus the Smile Sever-er had flung open the heavy Potions door and his eyes had darted to and fro across the corridor, looking for trouble. Fortunately there had been none, as the entire school had eaten far too much at lunch that day and were feeling rather like bloated melons, even the slimmest doing a bit of penguin-waddling. So you can imagine how Ron, Harry and Hermione were feeling. _Not at all comfortable_. But honestly, Ron mused, it's like Scowly-Snape actually _wants_ trouble, leaving seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors alone together in a confined, dark space. Fighting is almost guaranteed!

Muse muse muse.

And so everyone had filed in, Gryffindors first of course. Brave enough to turn a back on the enemy, that's what! Those Slytherin's are cowards… mutter mutter. So everyone had sat down, but Scowly-Snape hung back, waiting at the back of the classroom until everyone was ready and unpacked, so he could make his billowy entrance. And like usual, everyone watched his dramatically billowing cloak.

So currently, Ron was sitting at his desk, cheek resting against his hand and staring off into space while musing about Scowly-Snape's cloak.

Muse muse muse.

Snape looked an awful lot like a vampire. If Malfoy had shoulder-length black hair he would be a mini-me-Scowly-Snape-vampire. And why did Snape always wait until everyone had settled down before making his way to the front?

SO EVERYONE CAN SEE HIS VAMPIRICAL, DRAMATICALLY BILLOWING CLOAK-SLASH-CAPE THING! Snape must charm it or something… Ron wanted to learn that charm. It was _cool_!

Hold on, Snape was taking points away from Gryffindor again. Ron rose in his seat and looked indignantly angry for a minute or so before settling back into his stupor.

Snape had a cloak like a vampire, the mean-ness of the Whomping Willow, a face like a… hag? No, that didn't rhyme…

Ron's head bashed against the desk as Hermione nudged him hard with her elbow. He was drooling while staring at Snape again. He had to break that habit.

Hermione however, like the good Hermione that she is, had been paying attention to Professor Snape along with the rest of the class. So far he had insulted the Gryffindors and had begun telling them about a project they were going to do in partners. By the look of things, it was going to be a big project.

Then Professor Snape had paused and appeared to be trying to swallow his own tongue.

"In the interest of… (swallow here) … house unity (swallow again), Professor Dumbledore has expressed his wishes that the partners be of separate houses." Harry, who had been looking at Hermione hopefully, was crestfallen. A smirk appeared on Snape's face as he continued.

"So I have paired you, and there will be no changing partners. Understood?" He scowled threateningly at the Gryffindors for a few moments before pulling out a list. "The partners are as follows." The class made a single, audible gulp.

"Neville Longbottom, Pansy Parkinson."

Neville looked as if he was about to cry. Hermione shot him a sympathetic look and he returned it with a feeble smile. Pansy didn't seem to hear; she was busy watching her fellow Slytherins.

Hermione frowned as she saw Professor Snape's smirk widen.

"Hermione Granger… Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle."

Hermione shot out of her chair. "No!" She breathed. She couldn't believe it! Snape's head snapped towards her.

"Granger," He said coldly, "20 points from Gryffindor for insubordination. 10 points from Gryffindor for arguing. 15 points for interrupting me. 5 points for preventing the learning of others. 20 points from Gryffindor for disrupting my class. Now sit down."

Hermione hit the stool with a thump. She was dazed as Ron patted her on the shoulder and Harry rubbed her arm, assuring her it would be alright. How could this happen? She didn't even hear the next few sets of names. She was vaguely aware of Ron being partnered with Zabini, and trying to shoot out of his chair angrily but bashed his knee hard against the desk and fell back down again. Zabini looked at him with loathing in his slanted eyes.

Snape continued on.

"Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy." That brought the whole class back to reality.

"NO!" Draco yelled, jumping up so his stool went flying behind him. The rest of the Slytherins were murmuring in protest. Harry jumped up and aimed his wand at Draco, and slowly Draco raised his wand too.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand was deftly caught by Snape.

"Potter." He growled. "50 points from Gryffindor for disrupting my class. Sit down Draco."

Hermione didn't hear much after that. She took notes numbly, and left in a daze. Draco smirking happily at the Golden Trio.

* * *

Whisperings had reached Harry's ears throughout the day and scary though it was, it seemed as if they were true. In an attempt to disprove any rumours that a large majority of the Slytherins had suddenly turned gay and fallen for his dashing looks, Harry hid his (fabulous) body behind a suit of armour as a gaggle of Slytherins stalked by. Then, much to his horror, he undeniably heard a couple of them state – quite clearly – 'I love Potter', which was followed by grumbling and sniggering. Harry began to get seriously worried, he would not fall for the suggestion of him having a fanclub in the Slytherin house. He had to find Ron and Hermione. Now.

Yes – _before_ supper.

Shock. Horror.

* * *

It was working, Draco thought. Even little Jolin Reevey had commented (in an awe-filled tone) that Draco was being particularly evil today. No Slytherin's had any worries about Draco's loyalties, and none knew that Draco had even disappeared for a while during the Christmas holidays (Pansy was avoiding _everyone_).

So why wasn't he happy?

Oh, he didn't know… Perhaps seeing Hermione close to tears for most of the day? He didn't like seeing her close to tears. Why not? He was evil, he should relish it! But he knew he didn't. He didn't doubt his evilness, oh no. What he did doubt was his feelings for her. Blaise was a great friend, but 1) he knew Draco far too well and 2) he was a Slytherin. In fact, he was human and therefore ought not to be trusted.

Trouble was that (apart from his own mother – to a degree), Hermione was the first person he'd really opened up to. Oh Merlin, he'd even _cried_ in front of her – you couldn't go lower than that; but despite everything he'd done to her today she'd just taken it. She hadn't mentioned him sobbing into her t-shirt just days earlier. It was like he had obliviated everything that had happened in the Room and she was left with only a feeling of goodwill towards him.

_No one_ had feelings of goodwill towards him.

And that kiss… (not the one where he got bitten – the other one. Duh!) Let's just say that not having to see Pansy for a few weeks couldn't even come close to making him feel nearly as good as that kiss made him feel. But then the Haron (Harry/Ron) had to come in and bugger it all up. Gits.

To put it bluntly, Draco didn't like hurting Hermione. He tried to apologise when he could, but he only got a confusion-etched face in reply to his 'sorry-looks' (yes – he'd named them.) But he had to stop thinking about 'Mione and her kiss, because otherwise he'd die by Deatheater. That thing she had told him in the Room was rubbish. Honestly, who would take in the Ice Prince for a summer? Potter? I don't think so. Draco would lose his friends, his family, his station. For what? A _girl_? It could just never be.

But that new resolution didn't stop Draco from feeling mildly worried when Hermione didn't show up for dinner. She would have enjoyed it. Most of the Gryffindor's appeared to think that the Slytherin's were gay and that Potter was the object of their affections. Haha. Funny that. What a coincidence. Hee hee. Ho ho. Giggle giggle. Har har. Heh heh.

Draco was fairly surprised therefore when he was walking alone from the Great Hall (it was banofee pie for desert and everyone had gone back for seconds but he had his figure to think about… not. He was allergic to bananas and had some fudge and Turkish delight stashed away in his room). Draco was therefore fairly surprised when a tanned hand grabbed him by the throat of his robes and yanked him behind a tapestry, shoving him hard against a wall. His vision blurred for a second as his dead collided with the stone but then a wand tip lit and shone directly into his face, blinding him.

Oh Merlin! He was going to die! The Deatheaters were going to kidnap him and make him pledge allegiance RIGHT NOW! He wasn't ready!

Or maybe… MAYBE they had found out about his crush and were going to kill him for it! DENY EVERYTHING DENY EVERYTHING!

"I was dead at the time."

WHAT! YOU WERE DEAD? DIPSTICK! I am ashamed.

"Eh?"

"I said… er… I was… desirous at the time of the… spell."

"_What_?" His ramblings had definitely caught Hermione off guard. But then she remembered why she had cornered him and had her wand pointed at him. She was mad.

Hermione shoved Draco back against the wall again and wand in hand pinned him in place with her arms.

"What," she said in a deadly whisper, leaning in close to his ear. "THE HELL" She screamed and he flinched satisfyingly. "Do you think you were pulling today?"

"Hermione?"

"Yes Draco?"

"I'm sorry."

"You're not."

"I have reasons."

"Explain."

Draco gulped. "Well… you know how I'm a Slytherin?" He had regained his vision and could see that Hermione did not look impressed. "Well I have to pretend that I don't like you." This was worse than facing Deatheaters.

Hermione stared at him for a second. She could understand that…

"So you don't hate me?"

"Never."

"Prove it." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Draco didn't reply, he just pushed his lips against hers and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. Hermione raised a hand to wallop him across the face but he felt her move and tugged it back down again, while skilfully switching their places so that she was the one up against the wall who couldn't move.

He smiled in satisfaction against her lips as he felt her begin to kiss him back and pressed this new advantage, exploring her mouth.

Well, thought Hermione. This proved it quite well.

Soon the couple broke apart, and stood staring at each other from across the secret corridor behind the tapestry.

"What are we going to do?"

"We can try and keep it secret."

Draco was torn… but he nodded anyway. To secrecy.

"Can I kiss you goodnight?" He asked, playing bashful and scuffing his shoes.

Hermione's smirk was short lived as he dived in for another, very quick kiss. Just a lingering peck, really.

* * *

"Harry," Ron flung out an arm and stopped Harry in his tracks. "Do you hear that?"

"I hear whispering."

"Let's see who it is!" Ron said excitedly as he crossed over to the tapestry and the couple were revealed in all their goodnight-kissing glory.

"Merlin's bikini!"

Bugger.

**

* * *

A/N**

You're probably wondering where the marshmallows came in, huh? Well… they didn't! HAR HAR HAR! They were an whatsit for the fluffy goodness. Mmm… marshmallows… mmm… Draco kissing… mmm… Snape in a tutu. Heh heh heh - wait. Wrong fic.

Ah! That reminds me! I am planning another fic! Wahoo!

(Drum roll please – no, don't you dare start that up again! (violent shuffling) OI! Get back hear you bloody hmpf hmpf (sounds of more scuffling and a fist hitting a wall) oh, you're gonna get it now! Hmpf hmpf (scuffle scuffle) ah! There. Drum roll please.)

**Midnight Hunting – **The Prefects and Quidditch Captains – as role models for the school – have to organise an activity for the students. What could it possibly be that they pull on the poor, unsuspecting professors, that result in the teachers declaring war?

Mwa ha ha ha ha….


	7. Interlude

**Out of the Room and Into the Fire**

By Greenfly

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone recognisable, and this applies to EVERY chapter of ALL of my fics.

* * *

**Chapter Seven - Interlude**

Draco and Hermione sprang apart.

"Er… hello." Hermione waved a timid hand at her two frozen friends.

"_Hello_? Ron Fire-Top Weaselbee and Harry My-Temper-Freaks-Out-Even-The-Dark-Lord Potter have just caught you snogging their worst enemy behind a tapestry and all you can think to say is 'hello'!"

Hermione subjected Draco to a deathglare.

"And do you, Mr I-Am-King Malfoy, have a better idea?"

"Well, _obviously_ anything is better than a pathetic 'er hello?'"

Hermione turned to her friends in desperation.

"Harry, help me out here. What should I have said?" Harry broke out of his shock and a small smile appeared on his face.

"Acting casual and denying everything would have been your best bet." He advised in a wry tone. Ron's eyes slitted.

"And exactly _what_ did you think you were doing?"

Draco shook his head in disbelief.

"Are you deaf as well as brainless Weaselbee?" Draco spoke the following very slowly. "I was snogging your goody-two-shoes best friend Granger." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Get over it."

Ron's face was priceless. He looked over to Hermione who was avoiding his gaze and instead staring at Draco's shiny, shiny shoes. He looked over to Harry who just shrugged. By now Ron's eyes were so slitted they were practically closed. Turning around dramatically, he flounced out of the passage and away, narrowly missing the corner. Shrugging once more, Harry followed. Hermione was about to as well, but found a hand holding tightly onto hers and preventing her.

"So much for keeping it a secret, eh?"

Draco grinned back at her. That was… odd… A grinning Draco. Hmmm… Was disturbing the right word?

"As long as my Father doesn't find out, or any of the Slytherins, or Snape, or anyone that knows the above people, I'm happy."

"That leaves out just about everyone Draco." Hermione felt the need to point out as she sank to the floor.

"Oh yeah…" His face fell as he joined her, sitting side by side and leaning against a wall.

"How are we going to work this Draco? I mean, it's all very well and good, but I'd quite like to keep my friends and I'd quite like to keep you alive."

"Kinda rules out having a relationship, doesn't it?"

"Ron and Harry will come round, and if you renounce your family…"

"WHAT? Er… _hello_? Malfoy here!" He waved a hand in front of her face, which Hermione grabbed and kissed before leaning in and doing the same to his neck. "Oh, oh… er… I guess I can see to that… Damn females and their charms… do that again, oh… oh that's nice…" Hermione grinned against his neck. Pathetic. Truly pathetic. She pulled away and gave Draco a hand up from the floor.

"If you need to talk Draco, I'm here. But now I'm going to go and give Ron his lemon drops back and beg for forgiveness."

She began to pull away once more but was stopped again as Draco caught her lips with his. Next thing she knew was Draco waving a cheery goodnight and disappearing back behind the tapestry and into the corridor, leaving her feeling slightly weak-kneed.

* * *

When Hermione returned to Gryffindor Common Rooms that night, Harry and Ron were not to be found either in the common room or in their dorms. What she didn't notice was that neither were Parvati or Lavender. Or for that matter: Ginny.

* * *

When Draco returned to the Slytherin Common Rooms that night, not much happened because the moment Blaise saw him, he was stupefied, levitated to his bed and enervated behind locked and silenced hangings.

* * *

Harry, feeling confident that nothing could ever possibly happen between Draco and Hermione (come on, they are COMPLETE opposites!), decided to try and talk Ron into giving them a chance, during which they went to Hogsmeade to get sloshed.

They didn't notice the three girls following them either.

* * *

**A/N**

Ok… well last chapter's competition didn't work out at well as planned because, well, nobody guessed the right answer. But to be completely honest it was a trick question, so honorary prizes go to the following FABULOUS people:

Machika, xXWitchXx and mrsbnm-of09.

Well done, you've won. Pick a line or situation that you would like to appear and mail me. I can't wait.

-Greenfly

xxxxx


	8. Author's Note Apolgies

The past year has been literally life-changing. I had mocks, A-levels, I went trekking around Peru for a month, then New Zealand for a month. Then I was at University for just over a month. Then I was unconscious for two months and I've been in hospital for eight months in total. Don't ask me why – I won't tell you. It's personal.

So, as you can see, pretty life-changing, eh? You can understand then why writing fanfiction is not as important to me as it used to. I still enjoy reading fanfiction but frankly I do not care about any of my fics.

**Hereby, **_**all **_**of my fics are discontinued until further notice.**

If I've forgotten what I have written I'm willing to bet that you have.

Sorry folks to dump this on you but I'm still in hospital – and I'm sure that most of you will disagree but there are more important things to life than writing fanfiction – like reading it. I have a few favourite authors who I will be sticking to, because those few I can be guaranteed are worth reading and I have only the weekends to read in.

Whether you chose to believe it or not, I really am sorry.


End file.
